


Steve Rogers Falls, No More.

by High_Functioning_Goddess_of_Mischief



Category: Captain America
Genre: Buckets with feels!, M/M, Major Character Death!, Only for the stronghearted!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-10
Updated: 2016-07-10
Packaged: 2018-07-22 19:58:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,532
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7452082
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/High_Functioning_Goddess_of_Mischief/pseuds/High_Functioning_Goddess_of_Mischief
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve Rogers falls and Bucky is there to live through the aftermath</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Steve Rogers Falls

There they stood Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes right there in the middle of the streets. Watching each other, one with disbelieve and one with rage. The world stopped right at that moment, wind flowing past their faces, making the long strands of the winter soldier's hair billow in the wind. Debris and fire was all around them, people screaming and running away, hiding behind cars and busses and all kinds of things they could hide behind to get away from the horror and to stay alive. Because the winter soldier killled without mercy, if it was a innocent citizen or a enemy of his. It didn't matter he had only one goal.... Kill Steve Rogers.

Steve looked at him not believing what he saw, the metal arm with this red star on his upper arm, is long, wavy, brown hair. As he looked into the soldier's eyes, he seemed to recognise him as his long lost friend who he thought would be dead never been seen again. "Bucky?" Steve said softly, he couldn't believe it after this long he would see his friend again.

"Who is Bucky?" The soldier said, picking up the mask and looked at it, there was a crack in the goggles. The this was of no use anymore. He let it fall back to the ground. Bucky looked up at him confused not knowing who Bucky was, he was The Winter Soldier that's the name they gave him. 

Steve felt his heart crumbling into pieces, into million little shards like his heart was made of glass. Steve looked at him, his expression puzzled. "I'm your friend Bucky." he said, letting his shield drop to the ground, the metal clanking against the asphalt. "I'm not going to fight you."

"меня зовут не баки! Ты не мой друг!" The winter soldier screeched. "My mission is to kill you!" He said in a thick Russian accent. He approached him, he drew a knife for his pocket and dashed out to stab Steve with the weapon.

Steve dodged the knife and took hold of Bucky's human arm, he turned to arm on his back and pushed the winter soldier to the ground, Cap's left knee in the small of his back. Steve tried to scramble the knife out of his grip, "I am not going to fight you, Buck. I'm your friend. We are friends" he told the brown haired soldier.

The angered soldier frozem, "меня зовут не баки! Ты не мой друг! Моя миссия заключается в том, чтобы убить тебя!" He yelled in Russian. His metal arm lashed out to Steve gripping his arm and threw him off of him.

Steve crashed into a metal van, groaning softly. His knees went weak, trying to stay up right by leaning against the side of the van and just to see his friend James Buchanan Barnes approaching him, the knife in hand again, His expression angered and distant, This wasn't Steve's friend anymore just and agent... and experiment of Hydra who was trained and send to kill the Captain. Nothing more and nothing less. It hurt Steve dearly to see his friend like this, he secretly was happy but he wasn't the same anymore. His friend was gone forever lost in this one metal armed meat suit.

Steve couldn't keep himself up right any longer, he slumped down against the van. His body crashing down to the ground. His suit had been rupped on his back from the impact he made, blood was seeping down onto the ground, pooling red around him. He looekd at his friend in pain, knowing he would remember him, some memories must have been left in his head, somewhere deep down. His breathing got ragged. "Buck?" he murmurs softly, coughing up blood, splatters marking his lips and the white and red stripes of his suit, making him grip his gut tight. He sucked in a breath. "Bucky?" He rasps again. It wasn't long anymore, not long before the darkness would take his full grip on him.

In some distant memory he knew the guy in front of him, he deep down knew him. Hearing him say this familair name, the way the captain said it was so familair to him, chanting his name over and over again. The memories came flooding back into his mind, his body dropping to his knees and gripping his head as all came flooding back. All Flashing before his eyes. From before the war when he was there to safe his scawny friend from the bullies in the alleys of Brooklyn th owhen they were at war and he first saw him as the big bulky guy with his blue, white and red start and stripes suit. He screamed in pain, gripping his head tighter, more memories flood back to him, the fall, Zola 'saving' his life, dragging him to HYDRA making his life a living hell, him calling the guy Punk and he would always respond with Jerk, it was one of the greatest memories, making his heart break into little pieces as he looked up.

"Punk." he said softly with a smile, wanting to know if he would respond to it.

Steve looked at him, his expression sleepy and distant but still he gave a smile. "Jerk." he said softly, his last breath leaving his lungs.

James scrambled up to his friend looking down at the blond guy, as he embraced him tightly, he broke down, crying loudly. He remembered everything again. Everything... him, the war, the fall, HYDRA, becoming Winter Soldier... EVERYTHING!

"Steve.... I-i remember you, My name is James Buchanan Barnes and I'm your friend. Everything we have...... done. I'm sorry, we could've grown old together if I weren't so s-stupid t-to dodge that grenade for you." He cried, his head on Steve's chest. Waterfalls of tears slipping down his face. "R-rem-mem..." He couldn't bring himself to words anymore, he was too hurt to say anything. 

It was his fault. It was his fault he killed the captain, Steve Rogers, his friend. The scrawny, thin kid from Brooklyn who always  tried to fight the bullies every day and he was there to safe him, the kid who signed up to join the army five times and joined the sixth time after being transformed into the super soldier. The kid who he loved from the first time they met when he was thirteen. 

He now knew he would remember him, remember him forever. Never letting the program take over his mind ever again.

It was too late now, Captain America, Steve Rogers was no more. 


	2. No More

**Month's after Steve's death**

With his mind now fully restored, having bits and pieces of memories back. He had mourned the Captain. Not having been able to sleep at night, only to be haunted by the memories of the day he died in his arms. It wwas the day he should have died, not the captain, not his friend. He only lived from a bit of bread and water one day in two weeks, his appetite and life's joy totally gone. he was a mental physical wreck, literally like a living ghost.

The whole nation had mourned the loss of the captain, people laying flowers at their old apartment, more children wanting to visit his exhibition in the Smithsonian, special Captain America conventions to honour him... but this all died down after a month, if not weeks maybe. Less people started to mourn while he was still in the full proces of mourning, visiting Steve's grave stone and statue at SHIELD headquarters every night. He still has not been able to get over the death of his friend, yet. Maybe he never will?

Whenver he came out of his apartment, mostly at night, dressed in a thick hoody, he often heard people talk about Steve on the street corners. Chatting away of how difficult it must have been to be out of time, to have lost so many. He always felt al pang of guilt and sadness and anger in his heart, it was his fault. His goddamn fault!

Tonight he made a stroll across town, look up at every graffiti drawing of Steve. Admiring the beauty of it, admiring the blue, white 'n' red stars and stripes vanning out behind the Captain as he seemed to be walking. With a huge American flag in hand. Like he was leading an army, an army to victory. He moved on. 

He sat down acroos one really beautiful, this was made on a wall in the park right under a street light. It were made to be seen, made to be touched (even, only if people wanted to). If it made that person feel stronger. 

He observed the drawing for quite some time, looking at every detail. Every bit of spray paint. Willing himself to remember, remember everything. He loved the sprankling eyes the best, they spoke of so many emtions; fear, courage, beauty and many more but those described Steve the best Bucky thought.

Right before dawn, before the sun made its first rays shine upon the earth and returned to his apartment. Sitting and mindlessly waiting till he could get back out at night.

**Author's Note:**

> "меня зовут не баки! Ты не мой друг!" : My name is not Bucky! You are not my friend!
> 
> меня зовут не баки! Ты не мой друг! Моя миссия заключается в том, чтобы убить тебя! : My name is not Bucky! My mission is to kill you!


End file.
